


My Vulcan Roomie From Craigslist

by shivadyne



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Professors, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Minor Injuries, Roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shivadyne/pseuds/shivadyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim goes on Craigslist and finds Spock's roommate ad.</p><p>“Man, this guy has got to be a creeper,” he muttered to the cat, pointing at one section of the ad for emphasis. “Only want a young female roommate? Has to be active, single, and in her 20s? How does he think he’s going to get anyone to agree to meet him with that shit?”</p><p>(Indefinite hiatus.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/96783271923/shakespeareandpunk-i-answered-your-weirdly
> 
> this title's so ridiculous, omg. i wrote like 1,000 words for this prompt, realized i hated every word, and uploaded it anyways because i'm in a writing funk like no other. 
> 
> will this be a continued story? maybe. will it be well-written with an excellent plot? proooobably not. it's rated teen+ because i know how i write and if i continue it, there will be a reason for that rating.

Jim was casually surfing for an apartment on Craigslist, sprawled out on his bed with his PADD in his hands and his cat purring at his back.

“Man, this guy has got to be a creeper,” he muttered to the cat, pointing at one section of the ad for emphasis. “Only want a young female roommate? Has to be active, single, and in her 20s? How does he think he’s going to get anyone to agree to meet him with that shit?”

He had been growing increasingly unwilling to continue crashing on Bones’ couch as of late, especially since his friend was looking better and better each day. He already paid his half of the rent (and more for his cat) so it wasn’t _really_ crashing on the guy’s couch, but the situation that lead to him bunking there made him feel like he was overstaying his welcome.

With the divorce, it had been necessary for someone to be there to hold Bones up as he puked after another round of drinks. The man had spent weeks in a permanent state of inebriation. And when they were sober, he was just there to snark at him until the custody battle finally came to a close. His friend had just recently regained custody of Jo during the weekends and the summer, much to the displeasure of his ex-wife.

Jim knew it was about time to get out and give his friend some privacy back. If that meant looking on Craigslist and possibly meeting an axe murderer, then so be it. With that oh-so-inspirational thought in mind, Jim brought his attention back to the screen.

After taking a sip of his disgustingly lukewarm beer, he clicked on another ad. 

It was an older one, but at this point he was running out of options. When he read the ad itself, he was kind of amused. It was straight-forward, gave away barely any information on the area itself, and the guy behind it was obviously a total prick with a stick wedged up his ass. ‘Just one payment and you’re gone? Really?’

He hacked his way into the Academy’s database, looked around to see if there was any interesting dirt for him to dig up, and then decided to find out about this Vulcan professor that was apparently looking for a roommate. He found a likely suspect with contact information just below his name and took a moment to wonder why the son of the ambassador needed to room with _anyone_.

“Spock, huh?” he whispered, deciding on a whim to actually answer the ad; it’s not like it could hurt anything and the asshole would probably get really mad when he saw who he was corresponding with. It wasn’t like he would ever deem _Jim_ of all people to be an acceptable roommate, especially since he was probably far too loud and emotive for this Spock’s delicate Vulcan sensibilities.

_hey spock, i read your email about an apartment being open for a roommate. can you give a few more details, man? i’m looking for a place near the academy bc i work in that area and i’m just gonna guess you live around there, too._

Not expecting a reply right away, he sent a quick text to Gaila and then twisted around to turn off the lamp. The apartment that he shared with Bones wasn’t very modern and it was kind of old; honestly, it would be kind to call the place dilapidated.

He took a quick look around the room, trying to see it from an outsider’s point of view.

The room was pretty empty, surprisingly, with very few things strewn about other than his clothes. He had boxes filled with books stuffed under his bed, never having got around to getting a bookshelf, and a few posters hanging up on the walls. There was a trashcan right next to the door, overflowing with empty beer cans.

The wallpaper, already a sickly yellow in color, was peeling to reveal the corroding wood underneath. The stained, puce carpet was torn up all over the place, thanks in part to Mrs. Norris’ unforgiving assault on it, and he had a bucket in one corner of his room for the leak from the unfixed pipe of the elderly tenant upstairs.

He tore his eyes away from the mess, pulled up Netflix, and spent a few moments deliberating on a movie. Eventually, he chose one of the Terminator films and glued his eyes to the screen, taking another sip of his beer and trying not to screw up his nose at the taste.

‘God, this is the last time I let Bones buy our alcohol,’ he thought while looking down at the can in disdain. ‘Dude can drink literally anything. He has no taste. Probably just being an alcohol snob, though… Those fruity drinks have ruined everything for me.’

A claw dug into his skin, breaking him out of his thoughts. Jim yanked his arm away with a pained hiss, turning around to glare into the innocent, wide eyes of his cat. She simply stared back at him before licking at her fluffy, orange fur. His eyes narrowed further and he said, “You’re more demon than cat, Mrs. Norris.”

She smacked him in the face with her tail and laid down right on his chest.

 

Jim woke up groggily the next morning to the feeling of a tongue like sandpaper licking his cheek. He groaned into his pillow and swatted away the feline. Mrs. Norris dug her claws into his back, jumped off the bed, and ran out of the room to accost McCoy next.

He pulled his PADD out from under him, not even pausing to wonder how he ended up lying right on top of it, and scrolled through his messages. One was from Gailia and the other from Spock. He quickly read over Gaila’s text first and replied with his course schedule before switching over to Spock’s response.

_Greetings, Jim Kirk. I traced your number to the Starfleet directory, though I am unsure why you are on it. Are you currently a student there? I do not believe we will be able to live together if so. As for the details, I am attaching a file detailing all that you may wish to know. This includes photos of the apartment building and an address._

_[1 attachment]_

He downloaded it and read it over quickly, rolling his eyes at the unnecessary information such as the exact size of each room. It was so unnecessary; he could’ve just rounded it up a little more.

Jim’s eyes widened, however, when he saw the price. It was do-able. In fact, it was more than just do-able. 

That was so cheap that he was pretty sure anyone with even half a brain would leap at the opportunity to live there. 

And James T. Kirk had more than just half a brain; most would even call him a genius, not that he’d ever think to disagree. Well, unless they were McCoy. Jim was well aware that his friend only knew him as the idiot who had to get his stomach pumped because he drank too much Andorian ale.

_thanks! :) and no, i’m not a student. like i said, i work there. i’m the new hand-to-hand instructor since the other guy (no, not THAT other guy) fucked off into space or whatever. maybe he left to herd sheep and plow horse-shit, I don’t know the details. are you saying you found my name and contact info, but couldn’t bother to do a little research?_

‘Alright, I might’ve been joking earlier, but I need to live there at that price,’ Jim thought while he stood up and sniffed at the clothes he was wearing. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and decided it was about time for a shower. ‘Wait, why is it so expensive to live at this place anyways? We don’t even have a fire escape anymore. Isn’t that a hazard or violation or something?’

With a shrug, he disappeared into the bathroom and went to get started with his day. His PADD, lit up with another message, went ignored.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is updating at like 3am going to become a normal thing for me now?
> 
> there's probably not going to be any updating schedule for this. it'll just be on a random basis, kind of like one of my other stories.
> 
> that aside, there's a fighting scene in this chapter and i don't really have a lot of knowledge in that area so it might not be the best and it's certainly not the most accurate. i'm just reading stuff i find on google and hoping it's right. no spock this chapter, sadly.

“Jim, get your damn cat off me!” McCoy shouted the moment that Kirk stepped out of the shower, clad in only his boxers. He paused in toweling his hair to look over and see what Mrs. Norris had done to invoke the doctor’s rage. 

She was perched on his shoulder, claws digging into his skin in a way that looked quite painful; he was pretty sure she was even purring. McCoy was extremely red in the face, eye twitching in a way that warned Jim against teasing him any further. He approached, picked the cat up, and held her in his arms despite her insistent whining. 

“You went through medical school without ever flinching, I know because Christine told me the stories of your wrath, and a _cat_ is what gets the best of you?” Jim asked, never one to listen to his instincts when they told him to back down and shut his trap. He smirked and scratched Mrs. Norris behind her ears, causing her purring to resume.

McCoy glowered at him and snarled, “I never had a murderous feline digging her dirty little claws into my skin, kid! Do you know how many infections she could give us? She could give you parasites! Bacterial infections! Toxoplasmosis!”

“How do you even know all of this?”

“The internet is full of information, Jim. You’d know this if you ever did anything on it besides watching Tangled and crying,” his friend informed him, quite pleasantly. Jim narrowed his eyes at the nasty smile on his friend’s face.

“I thought we agreed never to talk about that again,” Jim said, feigning a hurt look and putting his cat back down on the ground when she began to squirm in his arms. “But since we are, I guess it’s okay to mention how emotional you got over Toy Story 3.”

“It was a reasonable reaction to it, damn it!”

“Of course it was, buddy,” Jim reassured him, patting the doctor on the back before moving over to get dressed. He found a flannel shirt hanging on the bedpost and quickly shimmied into a pair of jeans.

McCoy glared at his back, obviously having heard the smirk in his voice. He left the room, but not without a parting shot of, “At least I wasn’t bawling through nearly all of Up!”

“Yes you were, you liar!” he shouted back, picking up his PADD. His eyes widened when he saw the time and date. ‘Shit!’

 

He arrived in front of Admiral Pike’s office just in time, pausing outside the door to catch his breath. After checking himself over to see if he looked even slightly presentable to teach and finding himself wanting, he sighed and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” the admiral shouted, voice muffled through the door, and Jim adjusted himself accordingly: smirk pasted on, shoulders pushed back, and hands in his pockets. He entered the room with a swagger in his step, exuding a confidence that he wasn’t really feeling.

The room he entered was small, barely bigger than a closet, with a hardwood desk in the center. Behind that was a large window that took up most of the wall at Pike's back, blinds drawn to block out the early morning light. The man behind the desk gestured for him to sit down.

“Jim, it’s good to see you again,” Pike said with a tired, but genuine smile. Jim sat in the chair, leaning forward with his legs spread out wide. “I'll just get straight to the point because I know how impatient you can be. I asked you to come here just so I could tell you to watch your back and to stress that you need to _be careful_. I’m serious, Kirk. No fucking around.”

“What’s got you so nervous?” Jim inquired, resting his elbows on the desk. He met the admiral’s eyes and pointed out, “It’s not like you to be so jumpy.”

“There are people here who disagreed with my decisions for the professors this year,” he said calmly, folding his hands together. “They think you’re too young to be teaching this class and if it wasn’t for that genius mind of yours, I’d probably agree with them. Luckily for the both of us, you’ll really only have to look out for Admiral Marcus and a few jealous cadets. Marcus’ daughter was meant to take up the position and while Carol was very understanding about the situation, her father happens to be well-known for holding his grudges.”

“Wait,” Jim said abruptly when a thought crossed his mind. It would make sense in a strange, roundabout way, but… “Are you saying I’m, like, a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here? That my position’s jinxed or something?”

“What? Defense Against… No,” Pike said decisively, already resigned to not understanding a word that came out of Kirk’s mouth. “No, you are not in a jinxed position. I just think maybe you might get… threatened. And since you’re such a danger magnet with no self-preservation instincts to be seen, I thought it would be reasonable to warn you, okay?”

“Well, considered me warned, then,” Jim said with a bright grin as he practically leapt out of his chair. It scraped against the ground, sounding like nails on the chalkboard. Pike winced, but Kirk didn’t seem to notice. “Can I go now? I’ve got a class in like,” he paused to look at his PADD, “10 minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” he said with a sigh, resting his head in his hands after he heard the door close behind him. Quietly, he muttered, “I’ve either made a terrible mistake or a fantastic one.”

 

“Alright, everyone, are you guys ready to learn how to kick some ass?!” Jim asked loudly, feeling kind of like an old man trying to relate to the kids. That was the last thing he wanted, especially since he was only 26. Two kids in the back of the room cheered, one of them seemed to have _a katana_ strapped to his back, and he frowned at the kid with curly hair. ‘Is he even old enough to go here?’

He had found his way to the gym easily enough after escaping Pike's clutches. It was a big room, but half of it was filled with exercising equipment. He knew he’d have to be teaching on the practice mats at first so no one would get too badly injured, mostly because Jim was pretty sure he saw one of them tripping over their own feet coming here. ‘Might be because it’s a morning class, though,’ he reflected thoughtfully.

“This is stupid,” another kid muttered, just loud enough to be overheard. Jim looked over at him, spotting the perpetrator immediately. It was a tall, bulky guy with a scowl that rivaled Bones’ in levels of animosity.

He grinned and asked, “What was that, Cupcake? It sounded like you said that you wanted to spar with me to show everyone here how it’s done.”

“... Yes, uh, sir?” Cupcake replied, looking uncomfortable with having to use such formalities with someone he obviously disliked. 

“Alright, drop that kind of crap right now, dude. Being called sir makes me feel like I’m 80,” he said and upon realizing that they didn’t actually know who he was, he explained, “The name’s Jim Kirk, but feel free to just call me Kirk or even Jim if you want. You can drop by to worship me at my altar, otherwise known as the classroom you guys have yet to see, but only during my office hours. You guys can just download the syllabus from the school website under my name, but if you’re either technologically challenged or want to make environmentalists mad, feel free to ask me to print you one out.”

“Are we still sparring?” Cupcake asked, standing in the middle of the practice mat and looking confused. Jim tossed a grin back at him and nodded an affirmative, moving over to correct his stance before he stood across from him.

“Give it your best shot, Cupcake!” he taunted, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Cupcake took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and then came at him with a quick punch. Jim blocked it, arms held in front of his face; the power behind the attack and the cadet’s strong build forced him to take a step back, but he quickly closed the distance again and came at him with a sharp uppercut. Cupcake was slow to block, but managed to stop the hit to his chin with a few seconds to spare.

Jim didn’t appear to be deterred, however, even while he took a couple steps back. His fists were raised to cover his face and Cupcake, seeing it as the defense stance that it was, came at him again with a punch aimed at his gut. Jim dodged out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough and Cupcake’s knuckles hit him hard in the side. He winced at the blow, hand going to his side reflexively.

Cupcake was momentarily taken off-guard by the near-miss, however, and that gave time for Jim to get his bearings back. Jim gave a sharp jab to the taller man’s ribs and he reacted by hunching over his midsection, instinctively trying to protect his torso from further assault. 

With Cupcake doubled over like he was, he was now closer to Jim’s own height. Seeing the opportunity to finish this quickly, Jim came in close once again and delivered a swift elbow strike to his head. Not having expected the attack, Cupcake was knocked back and lost his balance, falling flat on his back.

“Nice job,” Jim said, grinning down at him and offering the man a hand up. Cupcake took it gratefully and rubbed at his back, obviously beginning to regret his brief rendezvous with the floor. Kirk felt a pang of sympathy for him. “Glad to see you didn’t let me goad you too much. You were very level-headed.”

“Anyways, that’s as good an introduction as any, I guess,” Jim decided after taking a quick glance at the clock on the wall opposite him. “Class is over. Don’t forget about the syllabus, it’s got all the information you’ll need.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me a while to finish this chapter. i know it ended a little abruptly, but i hope spock being an awkward turtle makes up for it. somehow. 
> 
> i looked through this chapter for mistakes, but i still might've missed something and if you notice any errors, feel free to mention them to me. thanks for all the views, kudos, and comments by the way!

Jim woke up from what was meant to be a quick nap in his office and yawned, glancing over at the clock to see that it was about 1345 hours. His comm’s incessant beeping was what brought him into consciousness and with a groan, he reached around for it.

Peering at it through bleary, half-open eyes, he quickly read over the texts from Gaila first and told her he’d meet her at the cafeteria once her class got out. Then, he read over all the angry texts from Bones and sent him a ton of emojis instead of replying, well aware that it would piss him off even more.

Finally, he reached the last message which was from Spock… early this morning. Oops.

_You are correct in your assumption that Professor Olson abandoned his position to work aboard the USS Antares. The database, as I am sure you are aware, is not up-to-date and though your name was listed, your position was not. I am upholding a teaching position for Advanced Phonology and Interspecies Ethics, if you do not know yet._

‘Wow, no fun at all,’ Jim thought, even as he typed up a reply.

_man my friend’s roommate would love you. she’s majoring in xenolinguistics so that’s probably right up her alley. i’m not going to ask what information you DID dig up, but if you found out about the car, i was only 8 and i’m not sure about little vulcans, but human children are even more illogical than human adults_

The response was instantaneous.

_I did not. What happened with the car? Vulcan children can be illogical, though I suspect it is not in the same way as human children may be._

‘Shit, I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. How do you explain to a Vulcan that you drove a car off a quarry because your step-dad was pissing you off?’

_i made it disappear._

_You are being purposefully facetious. If you are not, however, then perhaps you should consider staying away from Admiral Archer’s prize beagle._

Jim laughed, amused.

_someone else already made his prize beagle disappear, spock :( i’ll just have to settle with admiral marcus instead, ok? and yea, it was just a really stupid idea. i drove the car into a giant pit_

‘And almost didn’t bail at the last minute,’ he thought, mood darkening at the memories that came with it. Frank was and would always be a total asshole. That would never change.

_I do not believe Admiral Marcus would be pleased to hear of your plans. I also behaved illogically as a child, Jim, so do not worry yourself unduly._

Jim couldn’t do anything but stare at the message in shock. ‘…Is he trying to comfort me? Do Vulcans even do comforting?’

_admiral marcus is never pleased. i’m pretty sure that the possibility of him smiling is in the -1000th percentile_

_A percentile is between 0% and 100%._

_exactly :)_

_You are implying that the possibility of Admiral Marcus smiling is nonexistent._

‘Admiral Marcus is a lot like Snape, now that I think about it. He’s unsmiling, probably enjoys making children cry, and hates me because I’m a Gryffindor.’

_yep. btw, is it cool if i come by and check out that apartment in person later? if you’re still considering me for a roommate, that is_

Glancing up at the clock, he saw that it was approaching 1400 hours. Gaila’s class let out soon.

Jim placed his PADD in his bag. At a leisurely pace, he started walking in the direction of the cafeteria. He was in no hurry, after all. His PADD beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out as he walked, reading the latest response from the Vulcan.

_That is acceptable. Would meeting at 2000 hours at the Academy doors work for you?_

Jim entered the cafeteria, depositing his PADD back in his bag as he considered his schedule. He ordered himself a burger and fries. He snatched a soda as well, knowing that Bones would be having a fit right now if he saw him.

Sitting down at an empty table, he glanced around to see if Gaila had been let out early. When he didn’t spot the Orion, he pulled out his PADD and agreed to Spock’s question. Then, he set to eating his food with relish. The rush that morning meant he’d had to skip out on breakfast and the couple demonstrations he had ended up doing for the classes made him really hungry.

“Jim!” a familiar voice shouted out and Jim found himself with a lapful of Gaila. He grinned and returned the hug that she was giving him. With a kiss on his cheek, she was off him again and sitting down at his side with a salad.

“Hey Gaila,” he said with ease, ignoring the confused gazes that had landed on the two of them. Jim knew that Gaila was a tactile person and despite the fact that they had warmed each other’s beds on multiple occasions, there was no longer anything between them save for friendship. “How was your first day as a TA?”

“Exciting, actually! I thought I’d just be doing paperwork, but I guess we’re going to be co-teaching the class,” Gaila told him, spearing a tomato with her fork and stuffing it into her mouth. With a grin, she added, “We’re going to be doing a lot of hands-on work once introductory crap is over.”

“Ugh, yeah, I’m already hating these formalities and it’s been a day,” Jim groused, taking a sip of his drink. “I swear, if one more kid calls me sir, I might just start sprouting gray hairs or something… It’s really creepy, y’know?”

“I thought you’d like being in a position of authority, Kirk,” another voice taunted as Gary Mitchell joined them. Gaila snorted into her salad and Jim sent her an offended look.

“Only with you, Garbear,” Jim crooned, grinning at the narrow-eyed look Gary sent him for it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gary said, dismissively. “I’m surprised you got a teaching position here considering all the crap you did when we were cadets.”

“They could only strongly suspect most of it was me,” Jim said, shrugging his shoulders and not bothering to smother his smirk. “The only time I got caught was when I was in that huge prank-war with Uhura.”

“You covered for her, didn’t you?” Gaila asked, unsurprised.

“Yeah, a little bump in my record is no big deal, but it’d be total hell for her,” he said. Glancing over at the clock and frowning, he realized that he had to get back to the gym to meet the next group. Standing up, he explained, “Got some more kids to bother in, like, 10 minutes so I better go. Later, guys.”

“See ya,” Gary said, tucking into his food with gusto. Gaila sent him another of her wide, kind grins and a wave. Jim nodded back at them and then left, heading back to the gym so he could look at the class roster and hopefully remember at least a couple of their names.

 

He had about a half hour of free time to waste between classes and it still wasn’t time to meet up with Spock so Jim headed in the direction of the medical building. It was right next door to the gym so he didn’t have to walk very far to find his friend’s office.

He knocked, waited for any shouting that would mean something was going to be flung at him, and entered when there was just a grumbled, “Come in, you damn pain in my ass.”

“Hey Bones,” Jim greeted the other man cheerfully, taking a cursory look around the office as he sat down in the seat directly across from him. The room was still as organized as ever, ignoring the pile of broken PADDs stacked up in the corner. Jim had never known a man that went through PADDs as quickly as Bones did. “Miss me?”

“No, I was actually beginning to enjoy the peace and silence,” McCoy replied. He had a PADD in his hands, but put it down with a sigh. “Can’t go a minute without having to pull you out of trouble, kid. Did you pick a fight with one of your students? You’re favoring your right side.” 

“Nah, just got hit during a little demonstration,” Jim said, shrugging it off without appearing too concerned. “I checked. A little bruising, no big deal.”

“Maybe, but I know your no big deal could mean anything from a small scrape to agonizing pain,” Bones said, scowling back at him as he stood up. Jim rolled his eyes. “At least tell me you used the dermal regenerator on it.”

“…Yeees?”

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” McCoy grunted, but let it go for the time-being. He glanced over at the clock and asked, “Don’t you have a class you should be teaching instead of bothering me?”

“I’m hurt, Bones,” Jim said, gasping dramatically. “You know that bothering you will always be my first priority.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so hurt. Now get out of my office, you damn infant, before I inject you with the Melvaran mud flea vaccine!”

“Bye Bones!” Jim shouted back, practically flying out the door when he saw McCoy begin to reach for something.

 

All of his classes officially over, Jim started the short trek to the entrance. Biting back a yawn, he resisted the urge to stretch his arms over his head lest he jostle his shoulder too much. He had been doing another demonstration when the kid tripped and managed to knock him right into the wall, shoulder first.

It would probably bruise like crazy, Jim knew, and Bones would give him tons of shit for it. It was easier to just dig up his old dermal regenerator at home and hope it would work long enough to fix him back up.

Distracted as he was, he almost missed the view of a certain Vulcan standing by the steps, hands clasped behind his back.

Jim grinned at the sight of him and approached him. He said, “Hey Spock. Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”

“No,” Spock replied, glancing over at him. His gaze eventually landed on his shoulder, having noticed a slight wince when Jim rushed over to him. “Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing that the dermal generator back home can’t fix,” Jim said, seemingly unconcerned. Spock simply stared at him and he explained, “One of the kids tripped and knocked me into a wall so it’s just a bit of bruising. Don’t worry about it.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” Spock said and started in the direction of his apartment. His gaze was fixated on a random point in the distance, giving Jim very little to go off of.

Jim followed after him, not bothering to argue as he normally would have. Instead, he said, “I bet you’re curious how one of Starfleet’s best and brightest could trip in the middle of a fight.”

“It is advisable to have an efficient understanding of combat,” Spock replied, sounding almost amused as he added, “However, I have noticed that many of our newer recruits have yet to reach this understanding.”

“They suck,” Jim said plainly, smirking when Spock sent him a shocked look. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re not supposed to shit-talk your students or whatever, but it’s a good idea to know how you’re actually doing. For them to get better, they need to start correcting all their mistakes and stop tripping over their own feet before the fight’s even started.”

“If I am available, I would be willing to provide assistance in training them occasionally,” Spock offers after a few moments of silent consideration. The words he had used when he spoke were carefully picked out to be vague, Jim noticed, but he couldn’t help but be charmed by the almost nervous stance that the Vulcan held after he had offered.

“That’d be really cool, actually,” Jim said. “I didn’t consider asking some of the other professors to help out, but it’d teach them a whole variety of fighting styles. I was thinking of pairing them up with each other for spars first. Most of them are nowhere near your level.”

“You have no way of accurately assessing my abilities in combat,” Spock vocalized after a beat of silence, brows furrowed together in a lack of comprehension. “How have you come to this conclusion?”

“I don’t know how you fight specifically, Spock, but I do know that a lot of Vulcans could be pretty awesome in a fight. It’s those controlled movements and even tempers that allow you guys to pull off some of the most complicated maneuvers,” and here he smirked up at him as he added, “not to mention touch telepathy, though I doubt you guys would consider using it in a fight.”

“Indeed,” Spock said after a moment’s pause. He seemed as if he was floundering for some sort of response. As they finally approached the apartment building that Spock was leading him to, Jim could tell that the Vulcan was relieved.

“Man, this already looks way better than where I’m holing up,” Jim told him with a bright, pleased grin. Spock simply stared at him. “What floor are you on?”

“I am unsure as to the meaning of the term “holing up”, Jim, but I am assuming you are speaking of your current place of residence,” Spock said after a moment’s hesitation. He then led the way into the building, easily brushing past the few individuals lingering near the building’s entrance and pressing the button to go up. As an afterthought, he added, “I am located on the 3rd floor.”

Jim nodded agreeably, following him into the elevator and pressing the button for the 3rd floor. As they stood waiting for the elevator to eject them at the correct floor, Jim thought, ‘Damn, this place is way too nice to be as cheap as he’s offering. I wonder if Spock’s taking a huge cut out of the rent to pay by himself or something.’ 

Before he could ask, the elevator doors opened.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was really hard to end!! i feel like it's got a life of its own at this point since i totally went off my (admittedly vague and unhelpful) chapter notes.
> 
> as always, thanks for all the kudos, views, and comments. i appreciate each and every one of them. :D

‘Holy shit, Spock is loaded!’ was Jim’s first thought upon entering the apartment. If he hadn’t known that Spock was an ambassador’s son, he definitely knew it now. ‘I’m pretty sure this is worth more than my apartment and my mom’s place combined.’

The room they entered was spacious even though it was averagely-sized, large bay windows framing the city below them. With some very, very expensive-looking furniture (seriously, Jim was pretty sure this place’s couch cost more than the entire apartment complex he lived in), the place looked like it was cut straight from a magazine. There was a hand-knit blanket hanging over the edge of the couch, but other than that and the box of tea that he saw sitting out on the kitchen counter, the place seemed unlived-in.

Jim didn’t even pause to take it all in, simply following Spock into the apartment and watching in amusement as the Vulcan immediately pulled down the blinds on the windows, glancing over his shoulder at Jim. He paused, as if he was filing through a mental guidebook on hospitality, and asked, “Would you like a drink?”

“Sure, coffee’s fine,” Jim said, resisting a grimace at the idea of small-talk. He followed him into the rather small kitchenette, propping a hip against the counter as he watched Spock make himself tea. The Vulcan handed him coffee, fresh from the replicator, and he made sure to drink from it when the Vulcan’s back was turned so he could properly make disgusted faces into its strong and bitter depths. ‘Dunno how Bones drinks it like this.’

Deciding that he wasn’t all that interested in discussing the weather with the ever-silent Vulcan, who he was sure would give him a look that screamed “I-am-too-logical-and-fabulous-for-this-shit” if he even tried, he asked, “So what’s got you looking for a roommate all of a sudden? Somebody move out?”

Spock turned around, taking a sip of his tea. He looked uncomfortable for a moment before he said, “No one moved out, no. I have been seeking out a roommate for some time, though I have had little success.”

“Don’t know if I’ll be much better,” Jim admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, mouth lifting up into a smirk. He was pretty sure he could eventually like Spock, even if the guy seemed like the type who could quote the regs word-for-word if he asked. He glanced around them at the rather pricy apartment, though, and reluctantly added, “I could probably chip in a little more on the rent, though.”

“That would not be necessary,” Spock said. Jim simply stared at him, obviously waiting for an explanation. With a sigh, he took another sip of his tea before he added, “I am only paying a portion of the rent. You need not concern yourself with paying more.”

“Oh,” Jim said, a little surprised even though he probably shouldn’t have been. Spock looked distinctly awkward, obviously uncomfortable with the whole being practically Vulcan royalty thing, so Jim pushed the whole matter aside with a disinterested smile. “Cool. This place is a two bedroom, right?”

“Indeed,” Spock said, nodding as he led the way upstairs. There were two rooms, practically side-by-side, and Spock showed him to an empty room that he assumed would be his if Spock was willing to put up with him. It was definitely bigger than his room back at his apartment, though he supposed that wasn’t much of a comparison. “The bedrooms are approximately—”

“Uh, it’s fine, Spock. No need to tell me the size of the place. You were pretty exact with that file you sent me,” Jim said with an easy grin. He gave the Vulcan a pat on the shoulder, realized that touching was a big Vulcan no, and mentally bemoaned the fact that he was the least likely person to wind up rooming with a Vulcan without any conflict. 

‘I have a feeling this is going to be a very, very stressful experience,’ he thought as he watched Spock stiffen up completely, face as expressionless as ever. Jim considered apologizing, decided that he probably shouldn’t give the guy any wrong ideas about how annoying living with him could be, and kept up his grin.

“Yes,” Spock said once he’d relaxed again, almost looking disappointed that he couldn’t throw out some numbers. “Is the apartment satisfactory to you? I am willing to live with you, so long as you keep in mind that I am Vulcan and my needs will differ greatly from your own. And I will not tolerate late rent.”

“Uh, actually, there’s one little thing you should probably know,” Jim said, thinking of Mrs. Norris’ displeased little face anytime he left the apartment. He knew he’d be unable to give her up to Bones, even if he’d still probably be spending a lot of his time there. “I have a cat and my roommate, Bones, totally hates her so if you’ve got a problem with cats, it’s… probably a bad idea.”

“I am inordinately fond of cats,” Spock admitted. Jim could practically see him firmly stamping out any traces of pleasure at the mention of cats, watching as the Vulcan’s face regained complete impassivity once more.

“Awesome!” Jim said, beaming a little (okay, a lot) because he was totally attached to that grouchy cat and no one could ever tear him away from her, not even Bones. “And yeah, no worries on the rent thing, man. I’ve got a little cash saved up if you want a down payment for the first couple of months or so.”

Spock nodded and said, “Are you capable of paying two months worth right away? I believe any longer would be unwise.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jim said, counting out the amount he’d have left in his head and deciding that he’d probably want to pick up his job bartending again on weekends. He had the money, but it would be a little tight after taking out of his extra funds and he wanted to build those back up as soon as possible. “When should I start moving in?”

“Within the week is acceptable,” Spock said. Then, sounding almost hesitant, he asked, “Will you be in need of assistance?”

“Uh, yeah, it might help a little to have an extra pair of hands,” Jim said, laughing sheepishly as he thought of how many boxes of books he’d have to lug all the way over there. ‘God, that’s gonna be hell… Guess Gary might’ve been right to call me a stack of books with legs.’

 

After spending a little bit more time working things out with Spock, he left the apartment and headed back to his own place.

As soon as he stumbled in through the door, he was faced with Bones’ unhappy expression and the equally unhappy complaints of his cat as she twined around his legs, nipping at his heels as he stepped around her. 

“Hey Bones!” he greeted his friend cheerfully, approaching the displeased doctor and giving him a quick, friendly hug. McCoy shoved him off immediately and his grin widened, watching as his friend’s face went through a plethora of expressions, each one growing angrier as he continued to stand in the man’s space, beaming like he was. “Remember when I told you about how I was looking for a place to stay at so you could finally move in with Christine?”

“I already told you, damn it, I’m not moving in with Christine,” McCoy replied, though his tone was fairly level. He looked pretty embarrassed, actually, and Jim wondered if he had finally gotten the nerves to ask her out on another date yet. “We’ve only gone on a couple dates and there’s no way that I’m going to push things any further than that. I happen to have manners, unlike a certain moron,” he paused and noticed Jim wincing as he tried to rotate his shoulder, “that is going to show me his shoulder right now, what the hell did you do, kid?”

“I made friends with a wall,” he said brightly, stripping off his flannel shirt with ease. ‘Yeah, great friends… Man, that looks a lot nastier than I thought.’

McCoy didn’t even blink an eye, already pulling out the dermal regenerator and mumbling unkind words under his breath as he managed to fix up most of the bruising. Once he was done, he pulled back and asked, a little mockingly, “Did you finally find yourself a roommate willing to put up with you, kid?”

“Even better, Bones,” he said with a grin, ignoring the feeling of a furry face rubbing up against his leg. “I found myself a Vulcan roommate! You probably know about him. His name’s Spock.”

“Goddamnit, Jim, don’t you have even a lick of sense?” Bones shouted back at him, returning to his fuming just as easily as he’d fallen out of it. Jim put back on his shirt as he watched the show, eventually leaning down to pick up Mrs. Norris when her vocal complaints began to become unbearable. “That damn hobgoblin is going to murder you and he’ll probably say it’s logical, too, since strangling you would be preferable to hearing your whining.”

“I don’t whine!”

McCoy ignored him, chuckling as he said, “Only you would manage to pick up the most by-the-rules roommate that you could find. You’re a damn pain in my ass is what you are. How’d that even happen? Are you dating the guy and just didn’t feel like telling me?”

“What? No, I’m not dating him,” Jim responded, though his response was more surprised than anything else. He waited a beat before he leaned forward with another of his smirks and added, “I certainly wouldn’t mind going out with a guy that hot, though.”

McCoy rolled his eyes and said, “You do know that Uhura dated him for a while, right? I bet she’s gonna love knowing you’re all chummy with her ex-boyfriend.”

Jim gave a jolt of surprise, exclaiming, “That was him?! I thought she was dating some stuffy old guy or something. It kind of gave me the creeps, honestly… I even considered the idea of her dating Admiral Marcus. I’m pretty sure I was going to have nightmares about it.”

“Think she’s dating that Scotty guy now, though,” McCoy remarked, almost distantly as he considered the contents of the fridge with a look that was half-disappointment and half-disgust. “And can you let up on your hatred of Marcus? I swear, he’s gonna skin you alive if you even approach his office after what you did to him as a cadet.”

“You’re the biggest gossip I know,” Jim remarked, snatching a beer before he could see whatever had horrified his friend. Mrs. Norris, now squirming in his hold, was set free before he flopped down on the couch. Jim watched as she raced off to his friend, amused at the sight of the man’s scowl deepening even further than usual. “And no one can prove it was me!”

He sat back up again, cracking open his beer and scrolling through his messages. There were a few from students, mostly asking pointless questions that he was pretty sure he’d answered right on the syllabus. He replied to them fairly bluntly, rolling his eyes at one particularly ridiculous one.

Before he could type up a scathing reply, Bones came over with a beer of his own and said, “Everyone knew it was you, though, even if they never had proof. You weren’t exactly quiet with your bragging.”

“And yet my alibi was totally solid,” Jim said, almost gleefully, as he took a drink of his beer. “I was messing around with Gary in the library and we got kicked out way after the Admiral discovered the surprise I left him.”

“I’m still not sure how you got your hands on that tribble,” McCoy muttered, remembering the widespread panic that had gone down Academy-wide when the tribbles wouldn’t stop multiplying. He’d even found one in his lunch. It had been a fairly horrific revelation and the last time he willingly ate in the Academy’s cafeteria.

“Two words, man,” Jim said. “Scotty. Montgomery.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a while since i updated. not my best chapter tbh, but i spent a while on it so it'll have to do.
> 
> thanks for all the kudos, views, and comments as always! really appreciate it :)

Jim glanced around his now barren room, his hands resting on his hips as he observed the stacks of mostly-filled boxes with an approving look. Behind him, McCoy was grumbling something at Mrs. Norris and he turned around to see what she was up to.

He saw a familiar head of hair blocking his view of the cat, followed by the green-skinned form of Gaila from where she was flopped down on the ground and eye-level with Mrs. Norris. He walked over to them, watching as the two seemed to have some sort of silent communication going on between them.

“So… you’re not only good in bed, but a cat whisperer, too?” Jim asked her, doing nothing to hide the amusement in his tone. He nudged at her with his foot when she didn’t bother to reply, taking her distraction as a moment to glance over at McCoy to see the disgruntled expression on his face. ‘Huh, that’s his angry-and-freaked-out face. Why does Bones only have a repertoire of angry expressions?’

Gaila pulled herself up into a seated position, twisting her torso slightly so that she was looking at both Jim and McCoy. She flashed them both a sheepish grin as she replied, “I was kind of hoping that maybe if I stared at the cat enough, I might end up gaining the ability to read her mind. My pheromones shorted out the esper rating test.”

“I can’t even remember my esper rating,” Jim admitted, thinking back on the test. “And I’m pretty sure your pheromones were on me at the time so my test was probably inaccurate?”

“You’re a damn fool, Jim,” McCoy told him, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t even get a re-test either, did you?”

“Nah,” Jim replied, tossing him a casual smile over his shoulder as he turned to finish packing more of the boxes up. “You never know when that messed up information might come in use. I asked Spock to come over by the way. That cool with you, Bones?”

“The Vulcan professor?” Gaila asked, rising to follow after him. Mrs. Norris twined around her legs, nearly knocking her over, before moving on to trying to scramble up McCoy’s pants and into his arms with very little success.

“You’re not even asking me, are you, kid?” McCoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and amping up the scowl in a couple levels of annoyance. Jim looked over at him and noticed that he wasn’t at the “royally-pissed-off-and-stabby” point yet so he just let his smile widen as he looked at him.

‘Oh, now he’s definitely looking like he wants to stick a hypo in me,’ Jim thought and then snickered. ‘That sounds like something you’d hear in a porno. _Ooh, stick your hypo in me, Doctor McCoy._ ’

“Jim,” McCoy snapped, his expression conveying that he knew where his mind was going and really didn’t appreciate the fact that he was best friends with a child. Jim silently wondered when he’d become so good at reading his friend’s facial expression.

It was at this point that they heard three consecutive knocks.

Gaila answered the door with a bright smile, saying, “Oh, hello, Professor Spock! I believe you’re supposed to perform a “knock-knock joke” now, a greeting which Jim has revealed to be quite important to their culture,” and allowing a somewhat confused Spock in. The Vulcan tilted his head slightly, probably trying to scope out his entire environment as subtly as possible.

“Is that so?” Spock asked her, his eyebrow shooting up pretty damn high.

“Damn it, Jim, what the hell have you been feeding that poor girl about our culture?!” McCoy shouted at him, seemingly ignoring the fact that Mrs. Norris had sat down on his foot and hissed with every attempt he made at unsettling her.

Jim shrugged. “Nothing other than that and the thing about our ritualistic worshipping of… who was it again, Gaila?”

“Bill Nye,” Gaila offered.

“With the way everyone chants the theme for his show, that’s actually kind of true,” Jim acknowledged, plucking Mrs. Norris up off of McCoy’s foot and into his arms. She started purring as he scratched under her chin. “Anything else can be pinned on Gary.”

“Will you require my assistance with moving these boxes, Jim?” Spock asked him once he’d observed (and subsequently pointed out) that McCoy’s face had reddened to a point where he had seemingly become incapable of speech.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Jim replied over McCoy’s enraged shout, putting Mrs. Norris back down to start moving some boxes.

 

He didn’t necessarily avoid the heavier boxes, but he didn’t really pick up as many as he probably should’ve while looking after Spock with a whole _five_ boxes of heavy books stacked up on top of each other.

He looked over to Gaila and shared an appreciative look with her because the inhuman strength of the aliens in the Federation would always be unreasonably hot.

McCoy, by comparison, just rolled his eyes and mumbled about “Vulcan show-offs” under his breath as he brought down one of the last of the boxes. Spock replied with something that Jim hadn’t been able to hear, but it appeared to be anger-inducing if McCoy’s squinty-eyed look of murderous rage had anything to say about it.

After everything had been loaded up in Jim’s truck, Spock had lingered a little longer to cast his aspersions to its character. He inquired, “Is it safe to operate this vehicle?”

“My baby’s in perfect working order!” Jim shot back, a knee-jerk reaction to the doubt coloring the Vulcan’s tone, while affectionately stroking the hood of his fire-red truck. The right fender fell off and Jim subtly tried to nudge it away with the back of his foot.

Spock gazed back at him wordlessly. 

McCoy marched his way over to them, rubbing at his back as he confronted Jim with a glare. “You’re making me dinner for moving all those books,” he informed Jim. “They were real goddamn heavy. Did you shove some bricks in there, too?”

“Sure,” Jim agreed easily. “I’ll be sure to make it real romantic this time, baby.”

McCoy spluttered angrily and Jim grinned back at him. Spock, having been peacefully watching the happenings, interjected with, “The weight of the boxes was negligible, Doctor. It might have been in your best interest to have left the heavier boxes to me.”

McCoy was about to retort, probably with something outrageously rude and offensive if the look on his face was a proper indication, but Gaila made her way up to Jim before he could even get the words out. She sprawled out over his back, resting her chin on his shoulder and asking, “Jim, can you make dumplings if we’re having dinner? I’m hungry.”

Jim looked over at her and asked, “Why do you want dumplings? Do we even have any?”

She nodded vigorously. Her excitement over the strangest things had always been infectious and, well, Jim knew that they only had moldy bread and instant ramen in the cupboards right now so it was a pretty easy choice to make. Almost as an afterthought, he asked, “Spock, you want to hang around for dinner?”

Spock paused in his argument with McCoy and nodded his head in agreement. He said, “That would be acceptable. Vulcans are vegetarians, however, so if you could avoid adding any meat to the meal…”

“Sure, no problem, Spock,” Jim replied without halting his ascent back up the steps to their room. He cast one longing look towards the broken elevator, but they didn’t live too high up so it wasn’t all that much of a hardship. It still kinda sucked, though, because his legs hurt from the constant back-and-forth with all the boxes.

Mrs. Norris came running up to them as soon as they re-entered their apartment, rubbing up against Jim’s leg and whining at him until he picked her up again. She wriggled around until she was comfortable in his grip and started licking his chin. 

He noticed that Spock was watching the cat with an expression of poorly-concealed excitement and held him out to her, their fingers brushing together very briefly in the exchange. Spock turned slightly green, something that Jim thought was pretty cute until he remembered that the guy was Vulcan and they’d pretty much just accidentally kissed.

Jim pushed McCoy towards Spock, knowing that the bickering would distract him. Then, he grabbed Gaila by the arm and very briskly walked her towards the kitchen where he was probably safe if Spock decided that his honor had been smashed to bits and he was going to have to murder him by strangulation to regain it.

Gaila, of course, reacted serenely to the change of pace and asked, “Can I help?”

“No, you remember what happened last time,” was Jim’s response as he started rummaging around for a large enough pot to fit everything in. He filled it with water and covered it over, waiting for it to boil. “They had to call the fire department just to get the fire out and Bones was pissed.”

Gaila just smiled back at him, apparently seeing nothing wrong with any of that, before acquiescing to his words and hopping up onto the tiny, miserable excuse for a kitchen table that they owned. It wobbled precariously, but remained upright.

‘Good enough,’ Jim thought with a shrug and turned back to the pot, adding in the dumplings once the water had come to a boil. He could distantly hear an argument brewing up between McCoy and Spock, but he’d mostly tuned it out after he’d heard McCoy say, “You’re a heartless, cold-blooded hobgoblin.”

Spock had calmly replied, “I assure you, my heart remains in its proper place, right where a liver would be for a human. Just where did you get your medical license, Doctor McCoy? Was it by legal means?”

His words quickly lead to McCoy’s voice rising from a tolerable level of grumbling to angry shouting.

Mrs. Norris entered the room a few minutes later, smugly licking something that looked suspiciously like blood off her paws. Gaila patted the space next to her on the table in invitation and Mrs. Norris took a moment to consider the situation before jumping up, nearly tipping the table sideways in her ascent. She paid that no mind, however, and simply plopped down in Gaila’s lap while arching her head up into her hands.

“Bones is gonna be pissed when he sees Mrs. Norris is on the table again,” Jim commented, commendably ignoring the way Gaila was licking her lips at the smell of the dumplings as they cooked. He didn’t bother to ignore the way the shirt rode up over her stomach, though, and asked, “Did you get a new tattoo?”

“Yup! Uhura suggested this one,” Gaila explained, pulling her shirt up even higher to reveal the rest of it before poking at it with her finger. “It’s still kind of sore… but I like it.”

“It’s her face,” Jim said. “Like… her face all over your stomach. That’s… real dedicated of you, Gaila. You should totally show Uhura when you get back to your dorm. I bet she’ll love seeing it since she told you to go get it and all.”

“She is my greatest friend here,” Gaila replied. “Why wouldn’t I want her face on my stomach?”

Jim was pretty sure Starfleet’s diplomacy classes never had a section on explaining why getting a tattoo of your closest friend’s face on your stomach might weird them out before deciding that he should probably keep his mouth firmly shut on the matter. ‘Hey, it’s still a pretty great tattoo. Who cares if it’s a little weird? We’re all about being culturally sensitive here so if Gaila wants to tattoo Uhura’s face on her stomach, she should go for it.’

“I’m still trying to figure out where to put your face,” Gaila added.

Jim’s face contorted strangely at that statement, but it smoothed out once he saw that the dumplings were well-cooked and finally ready to be devoured. He turned off the heat on the stove, not wanting to incur McCoy’s wrath if he managed to burn down the place just before he left. ‘He’d probably think I was doing it on purpose, too,’ Jim thought as he handed a bowl of dumplings over to Gaila.

He sat down on the table next to Gaila with a bowl of food in his hand, shoving Mrs. Norris off Gaila’s lap and ignoring her offended whine. Jim grabbed a plastic fork from behind him, wondering what had even happened to their chairs in the first place, before discarding the thought out of disinterest.

He’d just started eating as the others arrived.

Spock seemed curious about their choice in a seat, but said nothing even as he grabbed a bowl and filled it with dumplings. Jim wasn’t sure, but it looked like he might’ve been purposefully getting in McCoy’s way.

Spock sat down on the floor near the two of them, idly petting Mrs. Norris as she came over to him and sniffed his foot. McCoy was leaning against the counter and eating his food while glowering at Mrs. Norris whenever she approached him.

Gaila and Jim were the only ones willing to converse, by the looks of it, but they made the best of it over their meal.

 

After everyone had finished eating their dinner, which had occurred in a state of semi-awkwardness, Gaila was the first to leave after stating that she had to show Uhura her new tattoo. Spock stuck around a little longer, but eventually made his leave with a stilted, formal statement of thanks that Jim was pretty sure he’d read off of a Hallmark card or something.

“Ugh,” Jim groaned as he flopped over onto the couch, groaning again when his head met with McCoy’s knees. McCoy tried to shove him off, but Jim remained where he was as he said, “How can someone that awkward make it so… so… endearing? What the hell? Not even Gaila’s managed that.”

“Gaila isn’t awkward,” McCoy interjected, seemingly set on defending her honor. “And by the sounds of it, you just have some sort of teenage crush on the guy. He seemed about as endearing as a bag of rocks to me.”

“Are you jealous, Bones?” Jim asked him, rolling over so that he was looking up at him. He smirked as he added, “You know I’ll always be hopelessly infatuated with you.”

McCoy pushed him off the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably going to put this story on an indefinite hiatus.


End file.
